Dally's Final Actions
by Blackxoxrose
Summary: A short about the emotions that went through Dally's head after Johnny's death. Contains lines and actions from bookmovie. Rated teen for language


**A little something I made in an hour. Sorry if it sucks. **

**About what went through Dally's mind when Johnny died. Containslines+actions from the movie/book. Its in Dally's point of view and I wrote his emotions that were probably going through his head.**

**DISCLAIMER:** **I dont own any of the outsider characters or actions+lines that were from the movie and book.**

"Hey Johnny," I knelt down to Johnny's height. "We beat the Socs man. Chased them right out of our neighborhood." He said nothing back to me, no expression on his face. His burned body slightly moved. I wasn't even sure if he was alive, he was in such bad shape all burned like that. "Come on." I mumbled under my breath.

"Its useless." He responded weakly. Pony came walking in by Johnny's bedside. His expression was blank. His eyes wide with fear, probably fear of losing someone again.

"Huh?" I leaned in closer. I could barely hear his broken voice.

"Fightin' aint no good." He said, barely breathing. His words came out almost silent.

"You know, I read those editorials in the paper, you know, the one about you being a hero." I changed the subject. He didn't respond. My breathing turned heavy. I put a comforting arm on his shoulder. "We're all proud of you buddy, it's gonna be alright." My voice started to break as my eyes started to burn with tears. I never cry, Dallas Winston never cries. I don't plan on starting it either.

"Ponyboy," Johnny forced out. He turned his head slightly. Pony slowly knelt down close to him, not wanting these words to be the last. "Stay gold, Ponyboy, stay gold. He took one final breath. His head sank back into the white hospital pillow.

The room grew silent. Johnny didn't say anything else. No one did. I sat there with my mouth wide open, speechless. Nothing else ran through my mind. My eyes were fixed on Johnny, just waiting, hoping for him to say something. My wish was broken. Nothing was said.

"Johnny come on." I put my hand back on his shoulder, hoping to stir him from his eternal sleep. "Come on." I urged. I looked around, waiting for a salvation that would never come. I finally realized he wasn't coming back. My eyes grew cold. I took my hand off his shoulder and shook my head. "So this is what you get for helping people huh? This is what you get." I stared at his still body. I shook my head in disgust. "Punk." I shut my eyes holding back tears. My speech became weak. "Come on Johnny please don't die." I rubbed my hand into my face, attempting to hold back tears. I put my arm back on his cold, stiff body, trying to get him to speak. Just trying somehow make him come back. "Come on Johnny don't die on me now. Please." My head fell to the mattress. Tears came streaming out. I can't remember the last time I cried. I banged my fist on the mattress. He wasn't coming back. Johnny wasn't coming back.

I shot up out of the chair and made my way to the hospital doorway. I punched the wall in anger. I stood there for a while, leaning forward on the doorframe. The kid wasn't coming back. After all I did for him, all that I did to keep him out of trouble. He still died. It never pays for helping people. He never got back anything for helping people. I didn't get anything back from it; all I did for that damn kid didn't pay off. He still had to suffer like this. Well that's it. I'm not putting up with anyone's shit anymore. Dallas does what's right for Dallas for now on. No one else. No one.

I took one final look at Johnny and shook my head in disbelief. Tulsa was going to pay for this. I'm tired of doing shit for people. I made my way down the hospital hallway.

I traveled the hallways having no idea where I was or where I was going. I don't give a shit about anything anymore. I stormed out the first exit I found and was stopped by a man dressed in white. "Hey you your not allowed here." He said stopping me. He can't tell me what to do. No one will any more. I reached to my back pocket and whipped out my pistol.

"I'm allowed anywhere I want." I took the safety off and aimed it inches from his forehead. I pulled the trigger. It clicked as nothing came out. Dry fire. I laughed at the guy and pulled it again. He walked away, disgusted. I shot it at him again to piss him off. Fucking jackass. As he walked away I yelled, "Why you bother helping people huh? Doesn't do any good!" I turned around and made my way down the streets of Tulsa.

I ran down the lighted streets of Tulsa. I had no idea where I was going. I don't care either. I'm not sure what's going on anymore. So much shit is happening so fast. Too fast. Damn people. I'm tired of this place. I just want to get out of here. Somewhere I don't have to put up with anyone's shit anymore.

I ran into a convenient store. I don't have any idea what I'm doing anymore. I'm losing my mind. A huge whirlwind of emotions have taken over me, I just can't control all of them. Hate, sadness, confusion all at once. I'm getting out of this joint. It's a jail that I have to break out of before it eventually breaks me.

I got to an aisle of magazines and glared at them. Their covers sickened me. All full of happy people. People with lives. People who affected others, _helped_ others. They all smiled at me. Mocking me of the life that I don't have. They all helped people one point of their lives and look where they are, on a magazine cover. And here am I, Dallas Winston with a shit of a life. The scraps of life. Nothing great or good. This is why I don't help people, I never get anything in return. Nothing good ever comes to me. I grabbed one of the magazines and skimmed through the pages. Not bothering to look at the articles inside of them. Why should I? They never helped me. They never will either. I grasped one of the magazines and punched it lightly. I kept doing it, maybe I could get those people on the cover to stop smiling. Maybe they can see how it is to never get breaks in life.

While punched the cover the middle-aged clerk cleared his throat. Expecting me to stop or something. I glanced at him and smirked. If he wants anything from me he's not getting it. I looked around blankly then went back to the magazine. I held it in my grasp. I skimmed through the pages taking short looks at the articles, not giving a fuck what they say.

"You wanna buy one of those son?" He said to me in an irritated voice. I looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. I looked back and shut the cover of the magazine. I held it up so he could see, and slowly tore it in half. Why should I give a fuck about this guy's property? What did he ever do for me? "You know you tear those up you gotta pay for them." He said pointing at me. Jesus Christ this guy is aggravating. I placed the ripped magazine behind the stand and slowly made my way to the cashier. My finger tips glided along the magazines. I stopped at the counter with a blank look on my face. "You know you gotta pay for that magazine." I looked down. This guy can't tell me what to do. No one can anymore, no one will. I don't take orders from anyone. I reached for my pistol in my back pocket and shoved it at the guy, placing it on his panicked face. "Don't s-shoot." He stammered. I looked down at the cash register.

"Give me the money." I mumbled to him. "Give me the money!" I yelled through clenched teeth. He mumbled something to me, but I couldn't hear it. I didn't give a fuck what anyone said anymore. He handed me the money bag and I grabbed it from his hand.

"Get outta here." I heard him murmur under his breath. And that I did. I ran out the door and heard gun shots. Not knowing where they came from, I just ran. Don't know why, just running somewhere. Maybe a way out of town, or just getting away from the cops that were most likely to come. A pain started to develop in my leg. It didn't effect me much though, I just wanted to get out of here. I kept checking behind my back for a siren that was sure to be on my trail.

I eventually got to a pay phone and decided to call Darry. If anyone could get me out of trouble it was the guys. Since it was after the rumble they were sure to go to Darry's house. I ran to the pay phone and the receiver picked up.

"Yeah." It sounded like Darry.

"Darrel?" I asked, breathing heavily into the phone.

"No it's Steve, Dally?"

"Steve? I want to talk to Darry."

"Yeah sure," Steve said in an unsure voice. After a couple of seconds I heard the receiver being picked up.

"Hello." Darry said in his normal, agitated voice.

"Yeah this is Dally listen."

"Yeah," his voice seemed off guard.

"I just knocked off a store man, the cops man their looking for me." I rushed. "Can you meet me in the park?"

"Sure Dal, are you alright?" I said after moments of silence.

"Yeah Johnny's dead." I broke the news to him. I flinched when I said that. He can't be dead. He just can't be.

"We know,"

"Johnny…" I whispered under my breath. I still couldn't take it in that he was really gone. "Look meet me in the park will ya?" I got my voice back. I didn't want any of the guys to hear me like this.

"Hang on we'll be right there." I hung up. The guys will get me out of this, and if not, they will never take me alive. No one will. The only way they will ever get me at this point is if I am dead.

I sprinted down the street on the way to the park. The pain in my leg was throbbing now, it slowed me down. I heard sirens in the distance and looked back. A cop car was on my trail. I heightened up my pace and made my way down another street to the park. A second cop car came swerving at me and I shot my hands up to make him stop. He slowed down and drove in front of the other cop car. They both followed me to the park. Several cop cars surrounded me and I sprinted onto the grass. I pulled out my unloaded pistol so they could see it. I made up my mind. They were going to take me dead.


End file.
